Entries Tagged 'Bikers' ↓

  “Enough of this bullshit talk!  I want to fuck the bitch!” hissed

Bronk, pulling Amanda away from the now excited, half-naked woman and

pushing her over to an old sedan which was parked near the center of the

garage.  He shoved her up against it and bent her over the hood so that

her ass was exposed and pushed out toward him.  Reaching down to a drain

pan nearby he covered his hand with automobile oil and spread it over my

wife’s ass, being sure to get plenty on her asshole.  Then roughly, and

with no compassion at all, he took his hard cock from his pants and

shoved it up Amanda’s ass and began fucking her hard against the cold

steel fender of the old car.

     We all could hear Amanda scream through the duct tape on her mouth.

I felt my stomach flip and wanted to throw up, but I fought it down,

afraid I’d kill myself getting sick while gagged.

     In a very short time, Bronk shot his load up Amanda’s ass and

another biker immediately took his place, smearing more oil on her naked

tits and stomach, before shooting his load of cum into my sweet wife.

     I watched as they took turns with Amanda, fucking her up the ass or

in her cunt, whichever they chose, over and over again.  She cried and

whimpered into the tape, but she never gave them any resistance,

realizing, I’m sure, that it was fruitless to do so.  But, to my sheer

and utter amazement, after about four of the bikers had shot their loads

into her, she began to become excited and was actually grinding her ass

back on the thick dicks that pushed themselves into her holes.  I

couldn’t believe what I was seeing!

     The women watched it all, cheering their men on as they pounded

their cocks into the submissive and oil-covered slut.  When the men had

all spent themselves, some of them having fucked Amanda three times, the

women took over and pushed Amanda into the back seat of the old car,

ripped the tape off her mouth, and took their turns with her.  They

rubbed their naked tits over her oily skin and pressed their pussies

into her mouth until  they came loudly and moved away for the next woman

to have her turn.

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   “Any damn thing we want,” said one particularly large, bearded man

who looked strong enough to live up to his words.  He was older than the

rest of the other men and had “OTTO” tattooed on his bare arm.

     Bronk began to strip Amanda of her clothes, but stopped when given

a better idea by one of the women.

     “Make her strip for us!” an older, fat bitch shouted.

     “Hell, yeah…take ‘em off, little whore.  Show us your naked slut

body,” ordered Bronk as he moved away from Amanda, leaving her standing

in the center of the floor, trembling from fear.

     Amanda did as they ordered, slowly removing her white summer suit,

blouse, full slip, bra, pantyhose and panties, and letting down her

long, brown hair until she was standing there, stark naked in front of

the whole group.  Her fear and submissive nature were such a part of her

that she made no effort to cover her breasts or her pussy, but simply

stood before them and listened with embarrassment as they commented on

her naked body.

     Not surprisingly, it met with the men’s approval.  At thirty-three,

Amanda had a terrific body.  She was 5′7″ and weighed about 120 pounds.

I knew her bra size was 36-C and I guessed her other measurements at

about a 25-inch waist and 36-inch hips.  Her legs were long and very

shapely, and her big, round breasts had only just begun to sag - and on

her, it looked sexy.

     “Whooo-eee!  Look at those titties!”

     “Who’d a guessed a bod like that was hidin’ under all them

clothes?”

     One of the bikers pushed the big woman who had yelled for Amanda to

strip, out in front of him and pulled open her blouse, showing Amanda

her tits.  They were mammoth and sagged almost to her navel.

     “These are tits, bitch…those little nubs of yours ain’t even big

enough to see!” he taunted, bringing a hearty laugh from the others.  He

pushed his woman up to Amanda and took Amanda’s hands and placed them on

the woman’s breasts as he continued to taunt her.  “Feel these tits,

slut. See how her nipples get hard and long?  She loves pussy just as

much as the guys here do, and so do the rest of the women.  You like

pussy?  You better…cause you’re gonna be staring at a lot of it while

you’re here!”

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 Bronk put his arm around Lizzie’s waist and glared down at me,

“Hell man, I told you you would be hearing from me.  I wasn’t about to

forget that you fucked my old lady.”  (He ignored me as I was

frantically shaking my head!) “I’m not sure yet what I’ll do with you,

yet, but one thing’s for sure - I’m going to have a crack or two at your

little slut, here, before I turn her loose.”  With a smile, he raised

his heavy boot and kicked me in the shoulder. I saw stars.

     He unlocked the chain and grabbed Amanda.  His friend wrapped the

chain around my chest and the workbench leg a few times and re-locked

the padlock. Bronk pulled Amanda to the center of the garage’s open

floor, holding her in front of his friends.  She tried to pull out of

his grasp, but he slapped her across the face and she stood still.

     “This is a slut cunt, and what do we do with a slut cunt?” he

asked, loudly.

     “Fuck it!” shouted one of the men.

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     He told me to drive and, following his instructions, we drove for

almost an hour, far out into the country.  We turned off the road and

into a rutted trail and our kidnapper told us to stop next to a van

parked there and to get out.  Another, even larger biker climbed out of

the van, pointing a sawed-off shotgun at us.  The first guy put our

hands behind our backs and handcuffed us. Then he put silver duct tape

on our mouths and blindfolded our eyes with black cloth.  They pushed us

into the van and tied our feet to the sides and then drove, for what

seemed like hours, before stopping the car and pulling us out.

     When they removed the blindfolds, all I could tell was that we were

in a huge garage of some kind.  It was obviously used to repair

automobiles and motorcycles, as there were several of each sitting

around in the process of being worked on.  The first biker shoved us

down on an old schoolbus bench in the corner, leaving us handcuffed.  He

further secured us by running a long chain through our arms and

padlocking it to the heavy workbench behind the bus seat.

     Amanda and I were both terrified, neither of us knowing exactly

what to expect.  I assumed that the bikers were friends of Elizabeth’s

boyfriend and I was very sorry I didn’t call the police after his

threatening phonecall.  For all I knew, the idiot would kill us both.

When the two bikers returned, they were accompanied by what appeared to

be the members of some kind of motorcycle gang.

     There were about a dozen people.  All dressed in typical biker

gear, the men’s ages ran from the mid-20’s, up into the late 40’s or

even 50’s. Two of the girls looked very young, maybe 15 to 17, and the

other two were into their 40’s.

     The first biker walked over to us and introduced himself as

“Bronk.” My worst fear came true as he told us he was, indeed,

Elizabeth’s “old man.”  He was quite proud of his kidnapping and

explained to the others that he was going to make me wish I had never

fucked his “Lizzie.”

     “What’s the slut’s name?” Bronk asked another biker, rifling

Amanda’s purse.

     “Her name is Amanda.”  It was Elizabeth - Lizzie.  She was walking

into the garage, dressed like the rest of the group in dirty jeans and a

denim sleeveless jacket.

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 Several years ago, before I had my drinking “problem,” I had the

perfect life.  I was educated, employed, financially secure - and best

of all - married to a wonderful woman.  We had a pretty little house in

the suburbs, and we both taught at a very prestigious private school.

Amanda taught elementary school Reading, and I taught Math in the junior

high grades.

     Amanda and I met in college and married soon after we graduated and

we were both virgins on our wedding night.  She was smart and pretty and

demurely affectionate.  If there was anything less than perfect about

her, it was the fact that she kept a very tight rein on her emotions.

Serious, insecure, and uptight, Amanda even dressed very conservatively,

and it was only for those too-brief moments when her hair was out of the

bun and she was naked, that I could appreciate the true beauty that she

was.  Her insecurities even affected her professional life because other

teachers were promoted around her as she remained docile and submissive

to the administration.

     One weekend, I found out that Amanda’s bottled-up emotions took a

toll on her, and when the dam finally broke, it had shocking results.

     Teaching junior high, I was familiar with teens going through their

rebellious stage.  It was a fact of life for me, and I did everything I

could to make the teenager’s angst as painless as possible, while still

teaching my subject.  Also, teaching at a good, and very expensive,

private school, meant cooperating with the parents as much as possible.

One troubled teen was a beautiful girl named Elizabeth.

     Elizabeth was 15 and in the midst of a powerful revolt against her

very wealthy parents.  Big contributors to the school, her parents asked

for and received cooperation from everyone on the staff.  Looking back

on that Spring, I realized that I made a mistake by getting too involved

with Elizabeth and her family.

     Part of the phase Elizabeth was going through was in selecting

“wild” boyfriends.  Her latest was a biker, years older than her, and

someone we all assumed (correctly) was heavily into drugs and a lot of

other unsavory things.

     Just before final exams in the Spring, Elizabeth ran away from

home. For whatever reason, she showed up at our door several days later,

hungry and broke, and spent several nights with Amanda and me.  We

helped her get through exams and finally talked her into returning home.

     About a week after Elizabeth left, I got a call from her boyfriend.

He made it clear that if he ever heard of me touching her again that he

would kill me.  He further threatened to get even somehow for what I had

done with his “old lady.”  In a near panic, I tried to assure him that

nothing had happened between Elizabeth and me and that my wife had been

with us the entire time.  I don’t think he listened to me at all.

     Several weeks passed.  School let out for the Summer and Amanda and

I prepared for our vacation.  We planned a long weekend away over the

Fourth of July and couldn’t wait to leave as soon as Amanda’s summer

school class dismissed at noon on Friday.  I had the car packed and

ready to go when she pulled into the driveway.  We had a light lunch and

piled into the car to hit the road.

     I had driven perhaps a mile when I suddenly felt the cold steel of

a gun barrel being pressed against my neck.  A guy who looked very much

like a large, nasty biker was in the back seat of the car and was very

serious about what he would do to us if I didn’t do exactly as he

ordered.

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